


mind; body; soul

by whittler_of_words



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Sharing, Deaf Character, Found Family, Frisk Meddles, Illustrated, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Selectively Mute Frisk, the six human souls are revived in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: A group of children stand a little further down the path, each of them wearing varying expressions of unease. You can’t see them all very clearly, the light from the sun being gone almost completely now, but you can still count one, two, three... Oh.__For once, the six fallen children will not be left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to asmilemingledwithwrath for not only being the co-creator of these wonderful terrible soul kids, but for helping me with ideas and beta-ing this to top quality for me. couldn't do this without u cam
> 
> that said, this fic is already finished!! i'd planned on making it a oneshot but it quickly reached nearly 10k words and i ultimately decided to break it up into 3 chapters. i hope you enjoy!!

You can only stare at the sunset for so long before you have to look away, the fading light burning golden after-images into your vision as you turn your attention to the monster at your side. She doesn’t blink; you wouldn’t be able to say whether the water in her eyes comes from not being able to look elsewhere, or something...else. But she’s smiling. Toriel’s expression is gentle, the hand holding onto yours just as soft. She only looks down when you squeeze hesitantly.

“Let’s go now, shall we?”

Making the trek down the mountain is strange, almost; it feels like it’s been years since you first clambered up its side to fall into the cavern below, but looking around the trail as rocks and dirt crunch underfoot, it’s like nothing at all has changed since you’ve been gone. You probably should’ve expected it. For all you know, you’ve only been gone for about a day. 

What a difference a day makes.

The sound of excited talking drags you out of your thoughts. You and Toriel only have time to exchange one curious look before Papyrus comes bustling back up the path, just enough to see his grinning face from over the hill. 

“YOUR MAJESTY! HUMAN!” he cries, and you try not to wince at the way his voice echoes. “I HAVE THE MOST EXCELLENT NEWS!”

“Yes, Papyrus?” Toriel asks. “Is everything alright?”

“ABSOLUTELY! IN FACT, I’D SAY IT’S EVEN MORE THAN ALRIGHT. MY MASCOT SKILLS HAVE ALREADY FLAWLESSLY SWAYED A GROUP OF HUMANS INTO MY IRRESISTIBLE CHARM!” Papyrus places a hand on his chest, oblivious to Toriel’s startled gasp. Both of you hurry your pace. “IN FACT, SO POWERFUL WAS MY SKILL THAT THEY SEEMED TO ALREADY BE EXPECTING ME! I DIDN’T KNOW HUMANS COULD DETECT SHEER HANDSOMENESS.”

Papyrus comes more into view as you crest the hill. Toriel’s grip tightens on your hand, holding you close, until suddenly you’re jerked to a stop as she freezes in her tracks. It doesn’t take you long to realize why.

Asgore stands not far behind Papyrus, just enough of his face visible to lay bare his stricken expression. Undyne’s hand is on his arm, Alphys’ hand in her other, and while the air of discomfort around everyone but the skeleton closest to you would be enough to make you wary, it’s what lies beyond them that stops you short.

A group of children stand a little further down the path, each of them wearing varying expressions of unease. You can’t see them all very clearly, the light from the sun being gone almost completely now, but you can still count one, two, three...

Oh.

The first one to move is the one at the front of the group. They stand a little taller above the rest, and you’re surprised to see them sporting a robe not unlike Toriel’s, the Delta Rune emblazoned across their chest. You almost miss the much smaller child shadowing their steps. Folding their hands in front of themself, the first of the six clears their throat.

“Well,” they laugh nervously. It comes out awkwardly loud in the relative quiet, and it’s only then that you notice their eyes are a clear, bright blue. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

///

 

The bustle of the following days leaves little time for explanations. There are papers to be signed, accommodations to be made; for all that the human town at the base of Mount Ebott has long since lost the thirst for war, they hadn’t expected to negotiate with monsters ever again, and it only becomes increasingly evident as Toriel attempts to iron out all the little incongruencies.

In the wake of an entire race rising up to see the sun for the first time in a hundred years, no one notices the seven kids making their way out with them.

With Surface housing still up in the air, you stay with Toriel in New Home. Chara simmers uncertainly under your skin, watching her closely, but whatever she might feel at being in her old home after all this time, she hides it well enough for neither of you to see. There’s no hesitance in her expression as she opens up long-unused guest rooms; only fierce, cheerful efficiency.

It didn’t take much convincing for the other humans to agree to stay. In the end, they’d long since had nowhere else left to go.

Unlike Toriel, who’s giving them their space while they adjust to their new lives, you don’t waste any time asking questions.

The feeling of eyes gravitating towards you as you slip into the room makes you want to step right back out, but you resist the urge to draw into yourself in favor of surveying the chosen meeting spot; for all that the door to this room had been locked when you’d first passed through New Home, the large bed and floor quite literally covered in blankets are almost a disappointment -- as much of a disappointment as a room-sized blanket nest could be, anyway.

Movement from the bed grabs your attention, and you look over to see a human with their hair in a neat bun bouncing off in your direction. Their eyes crinkle as they smile, green standing out against the olive pallor of their skin; you hesitate at the burn scars on their palm when they offer you their hand, but upon realizing how old they must be by now, you shake it and smile back hesitantly.

“Frisk!” Their excitement is nearly palpable, and their voice lowers as if remembering you’re supposed to be quiet. “It’s nice to meet you! You know. _Officially._ ” The word comes complete with air quotes, a conspiratorial eyebrow waggle accompanying it, and you can’t help but laugh a little. “I’m Otta,” they say. “They/them, please!”

You start to sign before stuttering to a stop, patting your pocket for the pen and paper you brought with you just for this purpose. You’re interrupted by a voice across the room.

“Don’t bother,” says the child still on the bed. They’re hanging upside down with their head nearly touching the floor, and they finger-pistol at you when you look over. “We gotchu.”

“What she _means_ to say is that we all know ASL,” says someone sitting in the corner you honestly hadn’t noticed; their knees are curled up to their chest, fringe nearly covering the pointed look they send the other kid’s way. Their point is proven when they sign their words as they speak. “Atlus taught us a while ago.”

They gesture to a kid who looks about your age, sitting in a chair against the wall. They smile and wave at you when you look over. _‘Turns out there’s not a lot to do when you’re a floating soul in a jar with only five other people for company,’_ they sign, _‘but at least it makes communicating with each other easier.’_

“Soul telepathy,” says the one on the bed. She winks at you as she spreads her hands above herself, orange eyes glinting. “It’s what all the kids are into these days.”

“Oh my god,” says the cyan human. They’d been sitting on the floor by the bed, saying nothing as they watched, but their exclamation comes suddenly enough that everyone stops and looks at them. Their face reddens. “Um. Sorry.”

_‘What is it?’_ you ask.

“Oh, I just--” They interrupt themself with a laugh, covering their eyes with a hand. “I just realized I have _so many_ memes to catch up on.”

The surprised snort that bursts from your chest is all Chara, but it’s lost in the collective groan that travels throughout the room. “ _Persy,_ ” the orange human says particularly loudly. “You dumb _butt_.”

She introduces herself as Sage shortly after, and the human in the corner follows suit, revealing himself to be Avery. You almost can’t hear the last human when they speak, far as they are and voice soft to boot, but you make out enough to learn his name is Ace. He seems content to fade back into the wall after that.

_‘I’m Frisk,’_ you supply, a nervous smile drugding onto your face despite yourself. _‘But you already know that.’_

_‘It’d be kind of hard to forget,’_ Atlus says, smiling like you're sharing a secret.

You pause for a moment, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. All you send to Chara is a quiet ping of inquiry, but the lack of response is answer enough; you’d asked them, earlier, if they had wanted to introduce themself as well, but they’d been steadfast in their refusal. _I still don’t like humans,_ they’d said. _And I sure as hell don’t trust six brats I’ve never met._

You’d been hoping Chara might change their mind once they saw them, but. Maybe one day.

_‘Um,’_ you sign, trying to gather your thoughts. It takes a moment longer that you would’ve liked. _‘I have something for you. All of you.’_

Sage sits up as you step close to the bed, and most of the others do so as well. It’s a huge, soft-looking thing, big enough to fit at least three and a half on top, and you have to resist the urge to not burrow under the covers. Chara’s already made fun of you enough for MTT Resort.

You can’t tell who gasps when your inventory empties onto the blanket, but you don’t think you blame them.

_‘I’m sorry if some of these aren’t exactly how you remember,’_ you start. _‘I tried to take care of them, but most of them were already like this when I found them.’_

Surprisingly, it’s Ace who moves first, a hand snaking between Otta and Avery and snatching up the cowboy hat. The brim is almost comically large on him, obscuring the majority of his face when he looks down - his seeming default stance - but the relief that slumps his shoulders is unmistakeable.

“Thank you,” he says.

At that, it’s like a switch being flipped -- you step back a little, watching as they all gather up old possessions they probably thought they’d never see again. With how much they’re chattering with each other in their excitement, it’s a wonder the noise doesn’t bring Toriel knocking. Then again... Maybe she already knows.

_She definitely knows something, that’s for sure,_ Chara supplies. _She may have the face of a goat, but she has ears like a **hawk.**_

“Thank you, Frisk,” Persy says, stepping over to stand beside you you while the others are still caught up sharing stories. They’ve since changed from the robes they emerged from the mountain in, and the faded ribbon is tied under the collar of their button-up. The toy knife is just visible in their pocket. “I’d say you couldn’t know how much this means to us, but. Well.” They smile at you. For all that they’re taller (and older) than anyone else here, you don’t feel like they’re looking down at you at all.

_‘I think I have an idea,’_ you reply. You hesitate, but at Persy’s patient (ha) expression, you continue on. _‘I never thought I’d be able to give them back to you, but I didn’t want to leave them behind. It didn’t seem fair.’_

“That was very kind of you.” At that, something seems to spark in Persy’s eyes, and the smile on their face is no less mischievous for being so small. “You could even say a task like that takes a lot of......Determination?”

The pun is like a siren call for Chara’s attention, and you can’t help but snicker into a hand. _‘It really took a lot of Patience.’_

Persy nods sagely. “But you stayed true to your goal,” they say. “Such an act takes a lot of Perseverance.”

Otta swivels their head to narrow their eyes at you, both you and Persy giving them an innocent smile in return. “I smell.....bad jokes.”

To your surprise, Chara is quick to nudge themself into control, and they turn slightly to give Persy a sad look. _‘So much judgement,’ they sign. ‘It really takes a lot of Bravery to be yourself these days.’_

“It’s unfortunate,” Persy replies somberly, “but a necessary act of Integrity.”

“Would anyone else be mad if I kicked you in the shins?” Otta says. Even wearing a stained pink apron with a heart emblazoned on the front, you can’t help but think they look a little threatening with the heavy pan in their grip. “Like, really hard?”

Persy is about to speak when they’re interrupted, for all that the quiet interjection could be called an “interruption” at all. “If you ask me,” Ace says, thumbing the brim of his hat, “I think it would be completely _justified._ ”

“You know,” Otta says, “one benefit to having a body is that now I can run very fast, and very, very far away!”

“Just give up while you’re ahead,” Sage deadpans. The only way to describe her is “dead inside” when she gives you and Persy a flat look, trying to tie the mandana around her neck as she does so. It probably would’ve been easier if she’d done that before putting the glove on, but, hey. To each their own. She sticks her tongue out when Persy walks over to tie it for her, finally relenting when they smile winningly.

You take a moment to laugh before bringing your hands up to sign again. _‘Really though,’_ you start, _‘if anyone, I should be the one thanking you guys.’_

_‘Why is that?’_ Atlus asks. The purple frames on their glasses match their eyes almost perfectly, making them stand out against their dark skin.

You almost say _I wouldn’t have been able to make it without you_ before stopping yourself. You know that isn’t necessarily true; even if it would’ve been that much more difficult without their items to help you along your way, you would’ve kept trying until you’d gotten through one way or another. _‘The Barrier breaking, us being here... None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for you,’_ you say instead. _‘Without your help fighting back, Flowey...’_

“He was hurting you,” Avery says, picking it up immediately. “A lot. We couldn’t just let him do that.”

Ace shifts where he’s leaning against the wall. “It wouldn’t’ve been right.”

Scowling, Sage punches her palm with the gloved fist. “It was my pleasure to kick his stinking butt.”

“Yeah. He kind of had that coming to ‘im,” Otta says.

The string of emotions that shifts in your guts at that is a tangled one, and you push it aside before you can get lost trying to straighten it out. You didn’t bring this up to decide on what you think he deserved. _‘I actually have something else I wanted to talk about,’_ you say, trying not to let your nervousness show. _‘About Flowey.’_

“He’s still alive?” Ace asks.

You pause for a moment at the unexpected question. _‘Well-- yes. But, um. When he absorbed all the souls in the Underground, including yours, just before the Barrier broke... How much of that do you remember?'_

“I don’t remember much,” Persy offers, tapping their chin thoughtfully. “Just that he took us, and your name, and that the barrier was broken. I woke up just after that.”

_‘Same here,’_ Atlus says. _‘Actually, now that I think about it- if Flowey took the souls, how is it that the Barrier broke in the first place?’_ They look to you, eyebrows furrowed. _‘Did you take them from him somehow?’_

_‘Flowey did it,’_ you say.

“Bullshit,” Avery says, at the same time Sage exclaims “What the hell!” They glare at each other for a moment.

“Are you sure?” Otta asks hesitantly. “Not that I think you’re lying; I just...find it hard to believe.” They shake their head slightly, expression uncertain. “I like to think there’s good in everybody, but...”

_‘He makes it difficult,’_ you finish. _‘I know.’_ You tap your fingers together for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to say this. Already this is going better than you’d hoped; you’d been afraid that they had remembered everything, that you’d have to convince them to keep Flowey’s true identity secret when they had every reason not to. The only thing you need to focus on now is just a little more...personal.

_‘A lot happened in my last fight with him,’_ you say. _‘I won’t try to explain his actions; I’m not asking you to forgive him, and his story isn’t mine to tell. I just wanted you to know that it was him who broke the Barrier, of his own choice. Not me.’_

“...I understand,” Ace says, breaking the short silence. He nods when you look to him. “He did horrible things, but in the end he did what he could to try and make it right. I can understand that.”

You think of his gun as you found it, empty of bullets and still somehow smelling of gunpowder. You think of the empty holster at his side, and how the weapon still lies untouched on the bed. For once, Chara doesn’t accuse you of reading too much into things. You offer him a grateful smile. _‘That’s all I can ask.’_

“All I know is if he tries anything again, I’m not going easy on him!” Sage punches Persy in the arm, ignoring their polite “ow”. “I’m not letting any of this go to waste! Which-- hey.” She turns back to look at you. “Can you still do the...you know. Woosh??” Bringing up her hands, she wiggles them at you mysteriously, and you can only stare at her in confusion until Avery chimes in.

“She means, can you still save?”

The suddenness of the question stops you short, and you shift your gaze over to the side, not looking at their faces in favor of tracing a swirling pattern on a blanket with your eyes. You knew they were at least aware of the concept of saving and loading, but you could only guess at whether they knew how familiar _you_ are with it. It was one question you were too afraid to ask. Knowing that they do doesn’t seem to make the feeling go away.

_‘...No,’_ you say eventually. _‘Not since the Barrier broke.’_

“Aw, darn.” Sage frowns. “That was fun.”

“You just want the chance to arm wrestle everybody without having to live with a loss,” Avery says. Sage’s face goes red, and she stands from where she’d been nearly sprawling across the bed, pointing at him.

“I’ll arm wrestle you right now!”

“Sorry, but I’d feel bad beating a baby.”

“Children,” Persy says wearily. “I _will_ put you both in time-out.”

“She’s the nine-year-old!” Avery protests, gesturing to the smaller child indignantly.

“They’re always like this,” Otta faux-whispers to you. You can only watch in bewilderment.

Your attention is dragged away from their bickering when your pocket buzzes, and you’re surprised to find a message waiting for you on your phone. You’re less surprised to find it’s from Toriel.

* Please tell your friends that dinner will be ready shortly. I have made something very special for all of you! ]:)

You smile down at your phone. You never could have expected this, you think, but even with the future being so uncertain -- even with so many possibilities ready to lead you down roads you might never be able to come back from...

You think you’re all going to be okay.

 

///

 

Going through the Underground again, you can’t help but notice how much more lively it seems to be than when you first passed through. The Barrier breaking has breathed fresh air into everybody’s lungs, giving them a hope they’ve been sorely lacking for far too long. Even still, the bustle of everyone packing all their things...

You smile at the monsters who greet you and hope they don’t think you’re too rude for moving past as fast as you can.

At the very least, the River Person seems to be as aloof and unaffected as ever.

_I’m gonna guess that if I try to tell you this is a bad idea, you’re not going to listen to me._

_It’s not a bad idea,_ you retort. Snowdin is as blinding as you remember it, and you shield your eyes as best you can as you trudge through the snow.

_Glad to see you proving me right immediately once again,_ Chara says, their voice dripping sarcasm. _I don’t know what good you think will come of this._

You don’t say anything to that. You guess you’ll both just have to wait and see.

You’re stopped short before you can even take more than two steps inside the Ruins.

“What’s with that look? Did you think I was just going to let you go stomping around in there?” Flowey sneers at you. “Have some respect!”

You squat down beside him in the grass. The first time you’d met him here, he’d mocked you for going back and finding a way to get past Toriel without killing her -- it’s a little funny, you think, that now he’s doing the opposite.

_‘I wanted to talk to you,’_ you start.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You brought a pot and a shovel and are going to keep making sad googly eyes at me until I decide to go with you, huh?”

_Boy, he sure has you pegged,_ Chara says, at the same time that you make a face.

_‘Can’t I just want to talk to you?’_ you ask him. Not mentioning that you still thought about it. Chara gives you the mental approximation of a smug smile, and you ignore it pointedly.

The look Flowey gives you is unconvinced, but he lets it go regardless. “And what _did_ you want to talk about?” He smiles just a little too widely. “You didn’t come all the way from the Surface just to check on little old me, did you?”

_‘I didn’t come from the Surface,’_ you say, not acknowledging the way his expression falters just slightly. _‘We’ve been staying in New Home for a couple days. We’re still figuring things out.’_

“Oh.”

Neither of you say anything else for a moment. If he didn’t know you were still in the Underground, then that means he definitely hasn’t left the Ruins since he lost his body again. You’re not sure if you expected anything else. You’re not sure how you should feel about it.

_‘I just want you to know you don’t have to be alone,’_ you say, finally. _‘And I wanted to give you a heads up.’_

What started as an incredulous expression quickly turns into a suspicious one when you finish. “What,” he says. “What is that supposed to mean?”

_‘The six other kids,’_ you start, _‘when you broke the barrier, their souls didn’t disappear. They returned to their bodies like everyone else’s.’_ You don’t stop when Flowey freezes. _‘They’re alive.’_

He stares at you for one moment. Two. Then, “Golly,” he says, smile back in full force. “Thanks, Frisk, but I don’t see why you think I should care!”

You shrug at that. _‘Maybe you don’t. But I think it’s a good chance.’_

“For what?”

_‘For you to apologize.’_

The words are barely finished forming on your fingers before a laugh rings out in the chamber, echoing back on itself over and over until it doesn’t even sound like a laugh anymore. You wince. “Wow!” He says, still laughing. “You really are an idiot if you think I’m gonna do something like that!”

Huffing, you decide not to comment. _‘I’m not gonna force you to do anything,’_ you say instead. _‘It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t mean it, and I’m not sure they would accept it even if you really did. I just wanted you to know the choice is there.’_ Standing from your crouch, you brush off your shorts and make to turn around when you’re stopped short.

“Wait a minute!” Flowey says, as impatient as you’ve ever heard him. You look back just enough to see his expression waver until it settles into something like uncertainty. “What... what are they like?”

_‘They’re nice,_ ’ you sign slowly, _‘and a little lost. They don’t really know what to do with themselves.’_ You think for a long moment. _‘Some of them remind me of you.’_

When you turn around again, Flowey is gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

You do settle onto the Surface, eventually. By the end of the month, over half of the Underground has moved permanently into the light, and Toriel specifically is granted a modest, appropriate home, with you and the other humans living there with her.

Toriel had struggled with the decision for almost a week before deciding not to tell the Surface government the true fate that had befallen the human children that had found themselves in the Underground. She was loathe to deny Asgore the culpability of what he’d done, unpunished by human law, but in the end, she relished the thought of the complications that would arise from a monster being responsible for six human murders even less.

You watched from the sidelines as Toriel quietly asked them each what they preferred; they were the ones who were forced to suffer by his hand, she said, and if any of them wanted him to face justice for it, she would throw her own reservations aside and do everything in her power to help accomplish that goal. Chara’s grip had been tight on your wrist as you watched them talk quietly among themselves, unable to hear what they said.

Eventually, it was Persy who stepped forward. “We think you should tell them something else,” they said. They didn’t offer any reasoning for the decision. Neither you nor Toriel ever asked.

Atlus is the one who approaches you a few days after.

_‘Do you have a moment?’_ they ask, and you set down your pencil on top of your unfinished drawing.

_‘Of course!’_

_‘A few of us wanted to ask you a favor,’_ they start, and you have to fight to not let Chara’s suspicion show on your face. _‘We would ask Toriel, but we don’t think she would let us. We want to talk to Asgore,’_ they finish, and for a moment, you can only blink.

_‘...I don’t know where he is,’_ you sign, thinking hard. _‘I haven’t seen him since the Underground. But if you really want to go... I know someone who probably does.’_

A couple hours later, Undyne pulls up to the driveway with a surprising lack of destruction.

_Record scratch. Freeze frame,_ Chara says. _Yup, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation._

_Shut,_ you say. You approach the car quickly, the other kids who’d wanted to go trailing behind you. Undyne is already out of the car and opening the passenger doors when you get there.

“What’s up, PUNKS!” she says, grinning widely. “Are you ready for some freakin ICE CREAM??”

_‘Hi Undyne!’_ you say. Avery, Otta, and Atlus pile into the backseat, you taking shotgun, and Undyne waits until you’re all buckled up before pulling away. _‘Thank you for picking us up.’_

“Heck yeah, kid! I’m always up for some ice cream and making new pals!” She pauses. “As long as the ice cream is warmed up first.”

_‘Actually,’_ you say, glancing at the others in the back. _‘I was wondering if you could take us somewhere else.’_

She side-eyes you for a moment before looking back at the road. “Does your mom know about this?”

You shake your head, watching her pensively.

“YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she says, loud enough that you hear someone in the backseat jump, and you smile a little despite yourself. “SECRET MISSION! I _LOVE_ that! I can _smell_ the pure rebellious teen spirit in this car!” She pulls over to the curb, putting the vehicle in park before twisting in her seat so she can grin at all of you. “Where are we headed?”

Asgore’s house is...small.

Maybe “small” isn’t the right word for it. From the outside, it looks decently-sized, all cozy colors and windows with the beginnings of a cozy garden taking root in the yard. Despite that, though, it’s hard to imagine Asgore, as big as he is, living inside.

Asgore’s smile when he opens the door to see Undyne quickly turns to surprise when he finds you next to her. The look on his face when he sees the other children behind you is something else entirely.

“...Ah.” He clears his throat. “Would you all...like some tea?”

 

 

The tea, unsurprisingly, is golden flower tea; you sip at it from your seat at the table, wondering who’s going to break the awkward silence first. You’re just thinking of doing it yourself when Asgore finally speaks up.

“I am... going to assume Toriel does not know you’re here.”

“She thinks we’re getting ice cream,” Avery supplies.

“I see.” Asgore looks to the side, unable to meet his gaze. “And you came to see me instead.”

“We wanted to talk to you.” Otta looks down into their untouched tea as they talk. “Not all of us wanted to come, but...”

_‘We did,’_ Atlus finishes for them.

“I’m- sorry,” Asgore says, wincing. “I’m afraid I do not understand. I hurt you terribly. I thought you would never want to see me again.”

“You did,” Avery agrees, bluntly. “And a few of us don’t. But we still decided that- all of us, we want you to know that we understand.”

Asgore, blinking, finally meets his gaze. “I...Pardon?”

“We don’t... It’s not the same as forgiving you,” Otta says, “because, you know, you did hurt us, and you killed us, and I don’t know if that’s something we can forgive.”

_‘But we understand.’_ Atlus pushes their glasses a little up their nose. Glancing over to Undyne, you see her holding her cup of untouched tea just under her nose, looking at the exchange with narrowed eyes. You look away. _‘We just wanted you to know, that even if we don’t forgive you, we understand.’_

Asgore’s eyes are wet. “I... what I did was unforgivable. I was blinded by rage,” he says, having to pause for a moment when his voice skips. “And then, like a coward, I let duty trap me into thinking I had no other choice but to...” He sets his cup down. “You children are very brave, and very wise. And I am sorry for everything I did to you.”

Your fingers ache from Chara gripping the cup so hard, and everyone but you and Undyne looks emotionally exhausted by the time you get back into the car, but the air feels lighter, somehow. Undyne doesn’t start the car for a moment.

“We can never tell Toriel that this happened ever,” she says. You all nod. When she turns to look at you all, her grin is back in full force. “Now who’s up for some ice cream goodness!!!”

Looking out the window as she drives off, you settle back into your seat. Undyne turns the radio on, loud enough to feel the bass in your seats at Atlus’ request, and Chara’s hand squeezes yours.

_...So maybe they’re not all bad,_ they say, and you smile out at the trees.

///

“How was everyone’s day today?” Toriel asks, signing along with her words so Atlus can understand. You ask Otta to pass you the green beans.

“I found some really cool bugs,” Sage says, reaching for a bread roll. Her bandana is in her hair, upside down so that it looks like she’s wearing a pink, muscled tiara. “Also a lizard, but it ran away.”

_‘There are lots of them around here,’_ Atlus says. _‘Not as many as I remember, though.’_

“Yeah,” Sage agrees glumly.

“I’ve been looking around a little,” Persy adds. “Not- not for lizards, sorry. Apparently, there aren’t a lot of places that’ll hire someone who’s been missing for like, a hundred years.” They make a small face. “Same for schools, too.”

“So _that’s_ where you’ve been,” Otta says, pointing their fork in Persy’s direction. “I was wondering where you’ve been disappearing to all day.”

“I know. Who would think I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” Persy snorts. “Well. Y’know. _Trying_ being the key word here.”

“If I may,” Toriel interjects. “I don’t know much about the human employment system, but if you’re concerned about your education-- I think I might be of help. 

“I’ve been thinking of opening up a school,” she continues, “and while the paperwork has been slow, that says nothing about what I could offer in an unofficial capacity. I know I was already teaching you in the time you were staying with me,” she says, giving Persy a thoughtful look. “Perhaps we could continue that in the meanwhile?”

Persy sits up a little in their chair. “Are you sure?” they ask, more than a trace of hesitance obvious in their voice. “I thought that, you know, everything going on with the Surface would be more important than...”

“Nonsense,” she says warmly, cutting the food on her plate. “You know me, Persephone; I’m always happy to teach.”

“Then...yeah, of course,” Persy says. They go back to their own food, smile growing on their face. “That’d be nice.”

“Yuck.” Sage makes a face. “School is gross!”

“You’ll have to go back to school too, you know,” Persy says, side-eyeing her. “We’re already having enough trouble with Social Services. Once our paperwork is finished being put back together, none of you will really have a choice.”

“Why do you have to remind me.” Sage rests her forehead on the edge of the table. “ _I’m too old for this!”_

“You’re nine,” Avery points out.

“I’m older than you in brain-years!” she exclaims, looking up to point a finger at him. “Get off my lawn!!”

Toriel laughs lightly. “Regardless, Persy is right. You’ll have to resume your education at some point.”

“I know,” Sage says, even more glumly than before. Then, “Hey, can you teach me too?” she asks. “I don’t wanna go back to school for all the other kids to think that I’m _dumb._ ”

“Of course,” Toriel says, looking a little surprised despite herself. “Actually... I was planning on waiting until everything was in order, but... Since Frisk had already agreed to being a student of mine, and now Persy and you, Sage...” She looks around the table, hope beginning to grow in her expression. “I was wondering if you all might let me teach you.”

You nibble on your sandwich as you watch the other’s faces. Avery is the first to speak.

“Do we have to decide now?” he asks.

“Not at all,” Toriel says. “Things won’t be ready for at least a couple weeks, so you will have until then at the absolute soonest.”

He nods. Atlus signs with one hand, the other busy holding their fork. _‘I think it’d be a good idea,’_ they say.

“I’ll have to think about it, too.” Otta taps a finger against the table quietly, a thoughtful look on their face. “But I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

_I don’t know why they have to think about it,_ Chara grumbles. _It’s not like they have much of a choice._

_I don’t know._ You resist the urge to shrug. _Maybe they want to think they do._

“No,” Ace says.

He doesn’t have to set his fork down, food already mostly untouched, and the moment of silence following his decision feels almost lacking as a result. The majority of his expression is hidden by the brim of his hat when you look over, surprised; even still, the set neutralness of his expression is betrayed by the soft downturn of his mouth.

“...Are you certain?” Toriel asks.

“You act like nothing happened, but you can’t stop trying to make up for it,” he says, ignoring the question completely. “What do you want, Toriel? Us to forgive you, or to pretend there’s nothing to forgive you for? Just-- stop.” He stands, pushing his chair back. “I’m done.”

You can only watch as he walks away from the table, pulling his hat further over his face, but your attention is drawn by movement to your right. “Ace!” Otta calls, their chair scraping against the floor as they jump up to follow after him. The door that opens and closes twice is the front door; you ignore the nervous twinge in your stomach at the thought of them getting lost.

Toriel, when you turn back to her, looks stricken. Even still, you can’t help but notice that she looks unsurprised. You wonder if she’s been expecting something like this.

“I am-- sorry,” she says, quietly. “I think I’ll go for now as well. Please, enjoy the rest of your dinner.” With that, she stands and steps away, back in the direction of her room.

_‘...So,’_ Atlus says after a moment. _‘Can someone explain what just happened to the Deaf person in the room?’_

 

 

By the time you hear the front door clicking softly open and closed again, it’s already dark. The clock ticks quietly against the far wall of the living room, too far away for you to read, and you’re wary of checking your phone in case the bright light blinds you. You’d texted Undyne and Papyrus earlier though, asking them to keep a lookout for Otta and Ace on their nightly run, but they hadn’t reported any results. Not that that was a bad thing; it only meant they hadn’t gotten that far out.

Ignoring the twinge in your chest telling you not to bother her, you’d knocked on Toriel’s door, too. She hadn’t answered. The cold familiarity of it had kept you from trying again.

Ace pauses for a moment in the hallway when he sees you sitting at the table. Otta stops beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re still up?” they ask.

_‘I was making hot chocolate,’_ you say. _‘Do you want some?’_

They glance at Ace for a moment before looking back at you, smiling. “That would be nice.”

Ace is still standing awkwardly by the table when you come back with their cups in your hands, but he sits when Otta pulls out a chair for him. It feels weirdly formal when you sit down across from them, like you’re the beat cop in a daytime soap about to interrogate a couple suspects, but you do your best to push the feeling from your mind.

(You try not to be too disappointed at the lack of reaction when you take a sip of your drink. Chara had been quiet ever since dinner. You were hoping this would cheer them up.)

“I think I’ll go to bed. Thank you, Frisk,” Otta says after a while, touching Ace’s arm before standing. “Don’t wait too long, okay?”

He nods, once, and then Otta is gone, the clink of their cup settling into the kitchen sink the only sound they make on their way out. After that, it’s quiet again.

You glance over at the clock. Still can’t see.

“Were you--” Ace’s voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “Were you really just out here for the hot chocolate?”

You still can’t see his face because of his hat, but the angle of his chin makes it clear that he’s looking somewhere off to the side, cup clasped in his hands. Unwilling to let go of your own mug, you hope he can see you enough to interpret the vague movement and just shrug, taking a sip of your hot chocolate; it’s too rich and sweet, heady in the way that almost never fails to make you feel sick after. Usually worth it, though.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says in response. He tilts his cup in his hands for a moment. Then, “I shouldn’t have said any of that where you didn’t have a choice to hear it or not. That wasn’t fair to you. Or the others.” He looks up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of an uneasy smile. 

In a way, it’s almost a relief to put the cup down. _‘You don’t have to feel bad for being angry.’_

He looks at you for a second. “I do when other people get hurt because of it. You shouldn’t have to get caught in the middle of other people’s problems, Frisk.”

For a moment, you have to bite on the urge to laugh. It’s not like that hasn’t been your entire life so far; you getting in the middle of things is what broke the Barrier, what got the monsters free; hell, it’s what landed you in the mountain in the first place. How are you supposed to help people if they don’t let you in enough to see what needs fixing? At the very least, it’s found you a way to be useful. But you say none of that.

Instead, you just shrug again. 

“Otta thinks I should talk to her,” he continues, accepting that you have nothing else to say. “They’re right, I’m just- not sure how.”

Well, you know how to take care of that. You smile.

“Frisk-- wait!” Ace whispers as you make your way from the table. But you’re already gone.

There’s no answer when you knock on Toriel’s door again. Except -- when you pause, you can hear movement on the other side of the door; something like someone shifting on a bed, and you know she heard you. This time, you don’t feel any hurt, the anxiety easier to push away now that you have a purpose. Taking a step back, you can hear Ace approaching from the hall.

“Mom,” you say. “Please open the door.”

A moment passes. Two. You start to wilt, mind already running through various other things you can try -- maybe Sans will let you take a shortcut inside, or you can get one of the other kids to help you kick the door in -- when it opens of its own accord. The look on Toriel’s face is one that you can’t identify.

It’s immediately replaced by something else much more familiar when she looks behind you. You follow her gaze to find Ace frozen in his tracks. His hat is off, clutched to his chest over his poncho; even in the low light, the scars littered over his face are easy to see.

“Can I--” he starts, only to pause for a long moment. He blows out a breath of air through his nose. “Can we talk?”

Something in her expression -- guardedness, it’s easy enough to recognize that for what it is -- loosens just a little. “Of course,” she says, softly. “I will meet you on the porch in a minute, if that’s alright.”

He nods, and then he’s gone, back out the same door he came through not ten minutes ago, and then she’s kneeling down in front of you, taking one of your hands in hers. 

“I am very sorry for not coming out for so long, Frisk,” she says. Guilt; you can recognize that too. “Can you forgive me?”

You don’t need to try to smile to know that it’ll waver too much to hold. You want to hug her, but there’s still a part of you that doesn’t want to bother her, doesn’t want to be too pushy, doesn’t want to be pushed away. You almost nod, but-- before you can, it’s someone else who has you stepping forward. Chara links your hands behind Toriel’s neck, stretching on their toes just enough to reach, and all you can do is accept that the decision has been made for you and bury your face in her chest. She hugs you back like she never wants to let you go.

When she finally pulls away, it’s gently enough that it almost doesn’t hurt at all. “It’s very late,” she says. “I’m not sure how long we will talk for, but how would you like for me to read to you when we come back in?”

You don’t have to reach for this smile at all. _‘I’d like that.’_

She smiles, kissing your forehead and ruffling your hair as she stands. Watching her go, you wait until you hear the front door open and close again before going back out to the table. Ace’s cup is nearly empty; you take it to the sink and wash both it and Otta’s as quietly as you can. 

The streetlights outside cast faint shadows through the living room window. Standing in the middle of it, you can almost imagine you hear Toriel’s voice through the door. It’d be easier than anything to eavesdrop, and it’s not like it’d be the first time, but--

Somehow, your cup of hot chocolate is still warm. You take it with you to your room and start to pick out a book.


	3. Chapter 3

“So I was thinking--”

_Really?_

“I hate you,” Chara says, “and if it were not for the fact that we are in the same body, I would slaughter you.”

You pause with your fingers in the dirt. _Is that another meme?_

“Don’t worry about it.”

Even with the sun out, it’s far from overwarm, clouds casting shadows on the earth when they pass through the sky. It’s almost summer already, but the weather hasn’t seemed to have gotten the memo yet. It’s a nice day for gardening.

The square of land you’re working on is barely anything; only two feet across, just enough to be seen from under your bedroom window, but it’s enough to satisfy you. 

Well. Satisfy Chara.

They don’t say anything else as they finish churning the earth until it’s dark and soft. When they finally take the flowers and settle them into their places, their touch is firm but gentle. The splashes of yellow are almost an eyestrain. You couldn’t pick apart the tangled net of Chara’s thoughts if you wanted to, and you don’t -- not yet. Even your feelings about the golden flowers are complicated, and they don’t hold half the history with you that they do for Chara; somehow, you thought they would hate them now. Maybe you’ll ask them later, if they don’t tell you first.

“Anyway,” they say, startling you. “I was thinking, and--”

“Yo, Frisk!”

Chara makes a frustrated noise that you quickly smother with a hand, which turns out to be a mistake; you spend the next few moments spitting out the dirt that got in your mouth.

“Did I scare you?” Sage asks, leaning out the back door. 

_‘A little,’_ you allow, grimacing as you try and fail to wipe your hands on the grass. _‘What’s up?’_

“We’re all playing truth or dare,” she says. “Do you want in?”

Before you can even think about how to reply, Chara has already taken your hands. _‘I’d love to,’_ they say, and the smile that grows over Sage’s face is almost as sunny as the weather. 

“Awesome! We’re in our room, okay?”

 

It doesn’t take long for you to put the gardening tools away. _What was that all about,_ you ask as you wash your hands, trying not to feel frustrated about them not even consulting you first.

 _You’ll see,_ is all they offer in reply. Huffing lightly, you decide to let it go.

There’s a you-sized space in the circle they’ve made on the floor between Persy and Ace, and whatever idle conversation they’d been holding cuts short when you sit.

“I hope Sage wasn’t too pushy in asking you to join us,” Ace says. She pipes up even as you smile and shake your head.

“I didn’t make them do nothin’! Come on, let’s just start the game!”

“What are the rules again?” Otta asks.

“There are a couple different ways this can be done, I think,” Persy muses. “I’m not sure. It’s been a while.”

 _‘How about we go in a circle,’_ Atlus suggests, _‘in the order of who fell first. So Frisk, you would ask Persy truth or dare so that they go first, and then continue from there.’_

No one else has any other suggestions, so you all decide to go with that. Persy chooses truth. It takes you a minute to think of a question.

_‘Are you and Sage related?’_

Sage’s reaction is instantaneous; she immediately chokes on her laughter in a way that makes you think you’ve asked something obvious, and you can only hope your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face.

 _‘You just seem close,’_ you sign, flustered despite yourself, _‘so I wasn’t sure.’_

“I mean, you’re not wrong about that,” Persy says, sounding amused. “We’re not blood related, but I guess you can say we consider each other siblings? She certainly gets on my nerves enough for that.”

“Aw, but where would you be without me!” She flops over in their lap, reaching up to pat their cheeks. “Still sitting around in the old lady’s basement, probably.”

Even trying to pay attention as they go around the rest of the circle, it’s unusually difficult; there’s an almost panicked sort of nervousness fluttering in your chest, growing louder and louder as the seconds tick by, and it takes you a minute to realize the feeling is coming from Chara. 

_Chara?_ you ask. They don’t respond.

“I absolutely refuse,” Ace says. “Nope. No way.”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked dare!” Otta’s smile is wide to the point of almost being vicious. “Say it or I’ll think of something _really_ embarrassing to ask you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ace says, and then, “nevermind. You absolutely would.” Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his hat. “Fine. Give me a second.”

You are definitely not expecting him to look up and mutter, “It’s _high noon._ ”

Chara’s snort is drowned out by the laughter that fills the room. You don’t even get the chance to see how red Ace’s face is, everything hidden when he pulls down his hat to cover it entirely. In the uproar, you almost miss the way Chara links their fingers with yours.

“Okay,” Ace says a minute later. Otta lets slip a snicker, and he shoots them a look before turning to you. “Frisk. Truth or dare?”

“Actually,” Chara says, “you skipped somebody.”

The look on the other’s faces can only be described as confused. Your own heart thunders in your chest, and-- _oh._

“Did we?” Avery asks.

“Yes. You played the game in order of who went first, but you started with Persy.” Chara’s voice shakes only ever so slightly. “That was incorrect.”

“Hey, are you feelin’ okay, Frisk?” Sage leans over Persy’s legs to give you a serious look. “Because you don’t talk, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t--”

“You’re not speaking to Frisk right now,” Chara interrupts, and you resist the urge to scold them. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Sage looks almost angry at that, but she’s interrupted again before she can say anything. “Oh my god?” Persy’s eyes are wide, hand at their chest where they’d given up on covering their mouth with it halfway through. “Are you...?”

“Oh, so she told you about me!” Chara says far too brightly. “How delightful!”

“Sorry, um, what’s going on?” Otta looks between you two, eyebrows drawn. “I’m _really_ confused.”

“Oh,” Persy says, and finally their hand makes it to its destination. “Oh my _god?_ ”

“Glad to finally have that out of the way. Nice talk, very nice meeting you all.” Chara stands, making as if brushing off dirt from your shorts. “Have fun with the rest of your game!”

They’re out of the room before anyone can say anything else, and they’ve closed and locked the door to your room behind them before you realize that’s what they’re doing. Hands on their hips, they smile at your shared reflection in the vanity mirror.

“So. I think that went well. Don’t you?”

You spend the next 15 minutes helping them through a panic attack.

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, but you definitely hear the voice that follows after it. “Frisk?” It’s Otta, their concern audible even through the inch of wood. “Or, whoever you are? We talked for a bit, and we decided we’re kind of worried about you. Could you come out?”

“No!” Chara wheezes. Then, “In a minute, we’re busy!”

When you finally manage to ease them out of the tight ball they’d squeezed themself into under the desk, your head is pounding, and your shoulders hurt where Chara had dug their nails in on accident. You shake a little when you stand. You very carefully don’t look in the mirror.

 _I shouldn’t have done that,_ they say. _I shouldn’t have done that, god, I’m a fucking idiot!_

 _It’s okay. You’re okay._ Frowning, you rub your chest. _Do you want me to talk to them?_

 _No,_ they say. _Yes. I don’t know. I’m sorry._ They sound tired more than anything, weary and frustrated and wrapped up in a self-loathing you’re all too familiar with. _I didn’t think that would turn out this way._

You’re tempted to ask them what they _did_ think would happen. You decide against it.

The others aren’t in the circle anymore when you make your way back. Persy steps forward from where they’d been leaning against the wall before you can do anything else.

“I didn’t say anything,” they start. “I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to share, and I don’t really know a lot anyway.”

You nod. Looking around the room, you take stock of everyone’s expressions; you see confusion, and interest, and curiosity -- absent is the distrust or fear that you and Chara and been expecting, a little. You wring your hands.

 _‘When I fell into the Underground,’_ you start, _‘I woke up on the flowerbed with a new friend in my heart.’_

 

 

Chara spreads their hands out, palms up. “If I could ask one favor... Please don’t tell anyone else that I exist. Don’t acknowledge me in front of anyone else, or mention my name. It’s...” They look off to the side. “Me being around isn’t something a lot of people are ready for.”

“Of course,” Avery says. “If you’d rather stay secret for now, I’ll gladly respect that.”

The others voice similar opinions, and as they do, you can feel the last of Chara’s tension leak from your shoulders. The explanations of Chara’s existence had gone as well as you could’ve hoped, the only interruptions being sincere questions, or additions to the story on Chara’s part. In the end though, there hadn’t been much to explain; Chara wasn’t really willing to say how or why they died, or the role they played in breaking the barrier. Those are parts of the story that could easily go unmissed, you think.

 _‘Thank you,’_ you say, the grateful smile on your face yours and Chara’s both. _‘You guys are good friends.’_

“Soul squad!” Sage gives you a thumbs up. “We stick together, y’know?”

 _‘Actually... I think there’s something that still hasn’t been discussed,’_ Atlus interjects, a thoughtful look on their face. _‘Something very important.’_

“Oh?” Chara asks.

 _‘Chara,’_ they say, glasses only enunciating their serious expression _‘Truth, or dare?’_

You laugh, surprised. Atlus quickly follows, and before you know it the entire room is filled with laughter again, and you wouldn’t wish for anything else in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's read and commented on this!! i'm glad you like my soul kids as much as i do (:
> 
> that said, i'm not sure if I'll ever do anything else for this universe -- i have a Lot of other works to finish that take prevalence -- but there's definitely a chance if i come up with any more ideas!!


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